Her long lashes swept down and made my stomach do a strange freefall. It was a sensation that made me forget about all the reasons why I shouldn’t feel attracted to her. Why did this woman seem to have the power to disarm me by one look, one touch, one bat of her eyelashes? Was I wrong? Was I a poppet after all?
“It is easy to see that Lord Pitt regards you affectionately, more like a father than a master.”
“He’s not my master.” I relished the gentle curve of Olivia’s hip beneath my fingers. The sway was graceful and womanly and made me all the more conscious of how lovely she was. “I’ve chosen to serve him and could release myself from that servitude at any time.”
“Then he has awarded you land and a home for your daring deeds?”
“No.” I had no need of land or a home. Maidstone was sufficient enough. “You have seen for yourself what Lord Pitt awards me, my lady.”
At my reference to her earlier appearance in my chambers, her sights dropped to the pin that fastened my mantle. It was oval and studded with sapphires that matched the rich blue of my garments. The pin had once belonged to my father and the previous Barons of Hampton before him. I rarely wore anything but my simple woolen soldier’s hose and tunic. But tonight I’d taken more care with my appearance. With Olivia in such close proximity, I was suddenly glad that I’d worn garments and jewels befitting one of my status.
“Yes, indeed I have seen what Lord Pitt awards you.” Her voice dripped with disdain. She released her hold at my waist and reached up to touch the pin.
“That pin belonged to my father and his father before him.” I didn’t normally feel the need to rise to my defense. But I couldn’t allow my father’s name to be defamed, especially after my past action had already damaged my family’s reputation and fortune.
My father had come from a long bloodline of Norsemen who had once pillaged and raided the land. During those raids, my ancestors had taken an interest in relics, books, and artwork and secretly rescued them from burning monasteries, saving the items from going up in flames with everything else.
Although my great-grandfather had tried to return some of the stolen treasures, many of the old monasteries were gone and those that remained were no longer interested in housing the ancient works. As a result, my family had taken the role of being guardians of the treasures. My father had done so before me. And now it was my duty as baron.
I pressed my hand against the sapphire pin. Underneath my shirt, I felt the outline of the golden chain and the ring it contained. The ring was another treasure my father had given me long ago when he’d entrusted me with Maidstone’s treasures.
I was grateful that during the year of drinking and squandering my family’s wealth, I’d revered the relics, books, and artwork enough not to touch them. They’d remained safe as had the ring. Of course, most people wouldn’t see value or worth in them the same way my family did. So usually we had no worry of anyone attempting to steal from us.
Nevertheless, if Father had been alive, he would have been sorely disappointed in me. Perhaps that was part of the reason I’d yet to return to Maidstone. Everything there would remind me of my failures.
At least here, very few people knew about the man I’d once been. Everyone respected me, not for my birthright but because of the way I lived and all I’d accomplished.
“You speak with admiration for your father,” she remarked after a moment. Her expression and tone had softened as if she’d decided she’d had enough dueling with me for one night. While I rather liked dueling words with her, this softer side reminded me of the conversations we’d had during the long ride to Tolleymuth, the times when she’d let down her guard and we’d talked like friends.
“Will you tell me about him?” she asked.
“My father?”
“Yes.” She touched my family heirloom again before caressing the brooch she’d pinned to her bodice. She traced the cross pattern at the center and the emeralds.
“I’ll tell you as much about my father as you’re willing to share about your mother.”
At my suggestion, she smiled with genuine pleasure. The upturn of her lips only made her more beautiful and made me feel suddenly winded, as though I’d been sprinting in one of the battle drills I did with my men every day.
We talked until finally I realized several tunes had come and gone and that I’d danced with her far longer than I had with anyone else.
As I became silent, she did as well. She looked everywhere but me, clearly self-conscious. At the close of the melody, I escorted her back to the women’s table, bowed my head, and then turned away, resisting the urge to let myself gaze upon her face again.
I could feel the attention from the other women on my retreat and wondered if she was watching me too. Although I was tempted to look back, I refrained and instead forced myself to walk directly to my seat next to Pitt. With what I hoped was a stoic expression, I lowered myself.
Before my hindquarters hit my chair, Pitt’s elbow connected with my ribs. “You’re smitten with her.”
“She’s untamed, undisciplined, and has a sharp tongue.” I grabbed my goblet.
“Then she’s exactly what you need.” Pitt’s tone was smug.
Though I wanted to glance at her, I made myself stare straight ahead. I needed no one. Above all not a woman like Olivia.
“You’re a strong man, Windsor,” Pitt said, digging his fingers through the bowl of sweetmeats that the servants had delivered to the table during my absence. “You need a strong woman who won’t be intimidated or crushed by you.”
Had I intimidated Giselle? Was that what I’d done wrong? She’d always been quiet and meek. I’d been surprised when she’d grown increasingly unhappy in our relationship. I hadn’t understood what I’d done to push her away and so had only worked harder to keep her close.
In the end, I’d lost her anyway.
I’d failed at being a husband. My mistakes had cost me too much once, and I wouldn’t take another chance at failing again.
I gulped down several long sips of my ale then set my goblet down with a resounding clank. “I can’t deny that Lady Olivia is a very fine lady. But I have no wish for a bride, strong woman or no.”
Pitt sat back in his chair, tossed several honey-covered nuts into his mouth, and then gave me a calculated smile. “Very well, Windsor. If that’s your wish, then I’ll drop the matter.”
“Thank you, my lord.” But even as I spoke, I knew I hadn’t heard the end of his scheming to find me a wife. For some reason, he believed I wouldn’t be whole and happy until I made peace with my past and got married again.
The trouble was, I’d never make peace with my past. And I didn’t want to bring any woman, no matter how strong, into the turmoil that haunted me.
Chapter
12
My gown rustled too loudly in the silence, and I fisted the layers to keep them from giving my presence away.
I couldn’t believe my fortune. The oaken door to Lord Pitt’s solar had been ajar. None of the servants had been in sight. And the inner door to his treasury had been unlocked.
With a glance over my shoulder into the deserted solar, to his empty writing table and chair, to the quiet bedchamber beyond, I assured myself I was alone before I turned my attention to the shelves and the numerous chests on the floor.
Surely the Holy Chalice was in this treasury somewhere.
I held out my candlestick in its ceramic dish, the flame casting a glow over the lowest shelves revealing an assortment of old armor coated with dust and spiderwebs. I lifted the candlestick to the next shelf noting glass vials of all colors and sizes.
A noise outside the solar—like a banging shutter—brought me to a standstill. I held my breath and listened. My nerves were strung as taut as an embroidery stitch. I had only a few minutes to search before I needed to return to the sewing circle.